


The One Where the Inquisitor Finds Out

by coconutmacaroon



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 12:08:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8445265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coconutmacaroon/pseuds/coconutmacaroon
Summary: It's the Inquisitor's birthday, but Cullen is called away from Skyhold and has to miss her party. How will she respond when she opens his gift?





	

**Author's Note:**

> A silly little drabble inspired by/parodying the "The One Where Rachel Finds Out" episode of Friends, with a little bit of "The One With the Prom Video" at the end as well. Basically this is just me inserting Friends plotlines into Dragon Age, whoops.

It may have been called the War Room, but to look at it now it seemed like anything but a room of war strategy and defense.

Lavender and mint green-colored streamers were strewn about the room, draped over chairs and criss-crossing the floor haphazardly. Matching balloons hit the ceiling as they waited for Josephine to tie them with shiny silver ribbons. Small bags of confetti, shaped like stars, peppered the war table as if country-altering decisions weren’t made there on a daily basis. Leliana sat on the edge of the table, cutting the stems off of a group of white roses and arranging them in an ornate purple vase adorned with a white satin bow, while Cassandra strategically placed a group of candles atop a three-layer chocolate cake.

The door opened, sending the three women screeching as they rushed to hide their projects. A murmur of relief rippled through the room when they found that it was the Commander.

Cullen sighed as he kicked aside a pile of streamers and closed the door behind him, a large pack sliding off his shoulder and hitting the ground.

“How long did you think this party was going to last?” Leliana asked, glancing at the pack as she slid the last rose in the vase.

Cullen rolled his eyes in her direction. “I’m going to Denerim,” he replied.

“You’re going to _Denerim?_ ” Josephine repeated, her head whipping around so quickly that Cullen almost expected to hear a cracking sound. The distraction allowed for a purple balloon to float out of the ambassador’s grasp.

“Yeah, it’s… it’s a whole big recruitment thing,” he told her, running his hands through his already-disheveled hair. “The general we sent to sign on the new recruits ended up in jail after starting a drunken tavern brawl and threatening the daughter of a well-respected noble. And now they won’t let him out. So I get to go try and persuade them to hand him back over without trying to declare the Inquisition entirely inept.”

Cassandra cursed, her hands on her hips. “I knew we shouldn’t have sent Willis.”

“Anyway, I’m going to be gone for about two weeks.” Cullen sighed, the irritation already trickling into his voice. Even now, he could think of six different types of punishment for General Willis upon his return to Skyhold… _wait, make that seven_. “I’ll take a caravan with a small group of soldiers for the trip, and one of your messenger crows for correspondence, Leliana.” He turned to Cassandra. “And I’ll need you to cover the troops until -.”

“You’re going to miss the Inquisitor’s party.” Leliana’s singsong voice interrupted him as she hopped off the table.

“Yeah, I… I know.” A flicker of sadness lit up his eyes, but he cleared his throat before the spymaster could question him over it. He wasn’t stupid – he knew she saw it. She saw everything. “Speaking of, does anyone know where the Inquisitor might be? I wanted to wish her a happy birthday before I left.”

Josephine shook her head. “We asked Solas to distract her while we got the surprise party together. I’m not sure where they went, but I haven’t seen them all day.”

“Varric volunteered to be the distraction, but then we realized he probably would’ve just kept her in the tavern all afternoon. And we need her sober to properly surprise her,” Cassandra said.

“Wonderful,” Cullen mumbled, picking up his pack and slinging it over his shoulder, kicking away a wilting green balloon in the process. “I’ll go see if Varric knows where they might be.”

 

* * *

 

“Denerim?” Varric repeated, lowering his tankard to the tabletop. “Tonight?”

“In just a few minutes, actually.” Cullen shifted his weight, gazing around the tavern. He could hear Bull roaring with laughter on the upper floor, probably at something Krem or one of the other Chargers had said. No sign of Solas or the Inquisitor, however. Not that he should be surprised – Solas openly detested the tavern, and the Commander had never actually seen him enter the building. “Do you know where Solas might have taken the Inquisitor?”

“I believe,” a voice said behind him, and Cullen turned to find Dorian settling into the stool beside Varric, “that our elven friend took the Inquisitor to the pass to help her with magic training. At least, that’s what she believes he’s doing.”

Cullen sighed, not even bothering to quench the flicker of jealousy that sparked in his abdomen at the thought of the Inquisitor and Solas being together – _alone_ – in the mountain pass just outside of Skyhold’s gates. But the fire reached his eyes, something that his friends definitely noticed.

“Is that a hint of jealousy I detect, Curly?” Varric chuckled, the amusement in his voice causing the Commander to wince.

“Worried Solas might swoop in and take away dear Ana before you grow the balls to do it yourself?” Dorian snorted as the barkeep slid over a glass of wine in his direction.

Cullen swore at them both, which only caused the pair to laugh harder. They were the only ones who knew how the Commander felt – though he was certain Leliana had her suspicions, of course – and they enjoyed teasing him over his infatuation with the Inquisitor, much to the Commander’s chagrin. Every day he regretted getting drinks with the two of them following a game of Wicked Grace a while back; Drunk Cullen didn’t know how to keep his damn mouth shut, apparently.

“Have you even _tried_ to tell her that you have feelings for her?” Dorian asked between sips.

“Believe me, I’ve considered it. But I just… it could be a disaster.” It was a thought he had tossed around in his mind for weeks, months, even longer than that – whether or not it would be worth it to confess his feelings – but the effects could be catastrophic. They were fighting a _war_. She was the _Inquisitor_ , and he was her Commander. There was just too much at stake, and too much that could happen if things went wrong. No, it was best if he kept his emotions bottled up… at least, that’s what he tried to tell himself. But he still wasn’t completely sure.

“You never know unless you do it.” Varric’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Look, Curly. Go to Denerim. Get some halfway decent sleep in one of those rickety inn beds, eat some burned dinner, and just think about it. You might have a change of heart by the time you return.”

“I guess… I don’t know. Just… just give her this for me, okay?” The Commander pulled out a small wrapped parcel from a side pocket in his pack, handing it over to Varric.

“We’re just looking out for you. We want you to be happy,” Dorian said.

“I may be a just a few pints in,” Varric hiccupped, “but I love you man. Be careful on your trip.”

“I’m still on my first drink, so I just think you’re nice.” Dorian held up his glass.

Cullen snorted as he left the tavern, heading for the small caravan that was finishing preparations at the Skyhold gates, the caravan that would take him away from Skyhold for the next two weeks. A surge of thoughts swam through his brain, and he wasn’t sure if he should shove them aside or try and sort through them.

 

* * *

 

“You almost have the stance down,” Solas told the Inquisitor as they climbed the long steps of Skyhold later that evening. “You just have to brace your weight on your back foot a little better. Don’t let the power of your magic knock you off-balance.”

The Inquisitor rubbed her arm where a purple bruise was beginning to spread beneath the fabric of her tunic, remembering what happened during practice that afternoon when that very thing happened. She had lost her balance and gone flying into a pile of snow-covered rocks as her magic ricocheted in another direction. The white powder did nothing to soften the jagged blow to her shoulder. “Good to know,” she muttered, wincing as her fingers crazed the worst of the injury.

“Well, I suppose you’ll want to go straight to bed after such a rigorous day,” Solas suggested as they finally reached the tall doors that led into the great hall. “Maybe put some elfroot balm on that shoulder to keep it from swelling too much in the morning.”

She shrugged in response. “I suppose. I don’t really have any other plans for the evening,” she replied quietly and winced again, though this time it had nothing to do with her bruise.

She hadn’t made a big deal about today being her birthday – twenty-six years of life – but secretly she’d hoped that her friends would have done _something_ for her big day. But to her dismayed shock, the most she got was a few “happy birthdays” from her companions and an extra two pancakes from the cook for breakfast. It’s not like she was asking for a big party or a giant cake or a mountain of presents… she just wanted to spend the day with the people she cared about and perhaps eat too much chocolate. Was that too much for a girl to ask?

Solas merely smiled as he pushed open the door, then stepped aside to let her in first.

_“SURPRISE!!!!!”_

The scowl that had settled on her face at the thought of her forgotten birthday was instantly wiped away as she saw the great hall. The ceiling was completely blocked from view by dozens – no, _hundreds_ , easily – of balloons and streamers in her favorite colors. The tables along either side of the hall were laden with rich foods and desserts, a decadent cake the center focus of the farthest one. A stack of presents was piled up near the fireplace, where a vase of gorgeous white roses, her favorite flower, stood proudly on the mantle.

Josephine approached her with a wide grin on her face, a small purple party hat on top of her head. “Happy birthday, Ana!” she greeted, the smell of wine already on her breath. She snaked an arm through the Inquisitor’s and pulled her out of the doorway, leading her through the maze of people and party favors.

“We weren’t sure if Solas could keep the secret,” the ambassador told her between greetings and well wishes from the people gathered around the table of food. “But I guess he’s better at deceit than we thought!” She threw her head back in laughter at her own words.

The amount of times she was wished “Happy birthday” in that short span of time almost made her dizzy. She could make out her friends in the crowd – Sera sitting cross-legged on the ground, throwing confetti at passersby; Dorian and Vivienne playing “Guess that Gift” over by the pile of presents; Iron Bull and Varric challenging each other to various eating challenges; Blackwall trying to enjoy a plate of food, frowning as he pulled yet another piece of star-shaped confetti from his beard; Cassandra and Leliana fussing over last minute details that no one but them would have even noticed.

It was all a happy blur.

After a few minutes – during which Josephine had successfully distracted her with a plate of food and rather large goblet of wine long enough to plop a party hat on top of her head – the Inquisitor realized there was someone missing.

“Where’s the Commander?” she asked, turning to Cassandra. She could already feel the wine swimming in her head as it burned down her throat.

Cassandra, who absolutely refused to wear a party hat and angrily glared at anyone who tried to hand her one, cleared her throat. “There was an emergency with one of our soldiers in Denerim. He had to leave on a moment’s notice this afternoon and won’t be back for a couple of weeks.”

The Inquisitor felt a small rock drop into her stomach. “A couple of weeks? And he didn’t even say goodbye?”

“He tried looking for you,” Cassandra assured her, swallowing a bite of her sweet roll. “But no one was sure where Solas had taken you. And he was on such a tight time schedule.”

Suddenly, Ana didn’t feel like finishing her wine.

 

* * *

 

It had been hours, and despite the nagging tug in her stomach every time she remembered that the Commander wasn’t there to help her celebrate, the Inquisitor couldn’t remember ever having a better birthday. Even Sera spilling her tankard of ale on Vivienne’s new dress didn’t dampen the liveliness of the party, though Vivienne may have thought otherwise.

“Shall we cut into the cake now?” Leliana asked, a knife suggestively dangling from her fingers over the top layer of the chocolate cake that now stood over a mostly-emptied dessert table.

“No no no, presents first, cake later,” the Inquisitor insisted. She didn’t wait for a reply, and instead barreled straight for the table by the fireplace near the pile of presents, settling into a chair as her friends gathered around.

The first present she grabbed was a basket, unwrapped yet sporting a big red bow at the top, full of personal-sized bottles of wine and chocolate candies. She eyed the wine and then swung her gaze in the direction of Leliana, who stood by the fireplace with a cat-like smile. “I’m guessing this is from you?”

“Josephine helped pick out the chocolates,” the spymaster responded.

“Well thank you both.” She set the basket down on the floor, careful to keep it away from the already-drunk Sera’s prying eyes.

The next presents were from Vivienne and Varric – a rather form-fitting dress with an almost uncomfortably low neckline and a leatherbound journal-and-pen set, respectively. She thanked them graciously, setting both gifts down by Leliana’s basket of wine and sweets and making a mental note to write thank you letters to everyone the following day.

The next present she grabbed was a small box, wrapped in a pale green paper with a floral pattern. “Who’s this from?” she asked, glancing around at everyone’s faces as she carefully opened one side.

“Oh, that’s the Commander’s,” Dorian replied, and that familiar nagging tug pulled at her stomach once more, reminding her that _he’s not here_. “He told us to make sure you got it before he had to leave.”

It was a small grey box, just the right size to fit into her palm. Snapping it open, she felt her whole body go still – heart stopped, her breath sucked back into her lungs, even her blood seemed to halt its course through her veins.

Inside the box, nestled against black satin for protection, was a thin silver bracelet with two simple charms attached to the chain. One was a deep green emerald, and the other a pale blue sapphire. Both were circled with a band of silver, and they gleamed in the light of the nearby fireplace.

“Oh my…” she breathed, gingerly pulling the bracelet from its cushion and holding it in her hands as if it were a newborn chick. “He remembered.”

“Remembered what?” It was then, with Cassandra’s voice, that she realized the whole group was staring at her with confusion, waiting for her to continue.

“It was _months_ ago,” she began, turning the sapphire charm over between her fingers. “We were in Val Royeaux for a trade agreement signing. On our way to one of the meetings we passed by a jewelry store, and I saw this bracelet in the window. I told him it was just like one my grandmother had when I was a little girl.” She shook her head at the memory – the awe in her face as she laid eyes on the bracelet, the embarrassed flush in her cheeks as she told him just why the trinket had caught her attention. “I can’t believe he remembered.”

Leliana and Josephine both crowded behind her chair, _oohing_ and _aahing_ over her shoulders at the bracelet. “It’s so pretty,” Leliana breathed, daintily touching the chain as if it would fall apart at her touch. “This much have cost him a fortune.”

“I can’t believe he did this,” Josephine added.

“C’mon, it’s _Cullen_ ,” Varric slurred, waving a drunken hand as if that explained everything. “Leliana once told me that when he was still infatuated with the Hero of Ferelden, he bought her a ridiculously expensive _crystal duck_. A duck! He’d do anything for the woman he loves.”

The room went silent.

“What did you just say?”

Varric looked up at the Inquisitor, the realization of what he said rushing over him like a cold, sobering wave. He looked at Dorian in a silent cry for help, but the mage simply sunk down his chair and looked at the wall, at the table, at anything but Varric.

“Duck. Crystal duck,” Varric spat out.

“No, no. The, um… the _‘love’_ part?”

Varric once again looked at Dorian, then back at the Inquisitor, then at the wide eyes of Leliana, Josephine, and Cassandra. His reply was a mixture of coughs and stutters.

The Inquisitor fell back against her chair, not sure how to respond. “Cullen…” was the only thing she could think of to say.

Varric groaned and covered his face with his hands, peppering his mumbling with swears as he rubbed his temples with his fingers. “Curly’s gonna kill me.”

“That’s good, just keep rubbing your head.” Dorian clapped a hand on Varric’s shoulder. “ _That_ ’ll turn back time.”

 

* * *

 

The Inquisitor paced across the floor, the bracelet carefully tucked in the palm that rested over her heart. She had somehow managed to get through the rest of her presents and the cake, though she knew she acted as if she were in a daze. Her mind kept wandering back to that bracelet, to the Commander, to the words Varric had said.

_“He’d do anything for the woman he loves.”_

_Loves._

“This is unbelievable,” she mumbled for the umpteenth time, running her free hand through her tousled hair as she paced the floor in front of the now-dying fire.

“This is huge,” Leliana agreed from where sat backwards in a chair, her chin resting against the wood as she fingered the stem of an empty wine goblet. Most of the party guests had left following the cake cutting, ready to fall into bed after hours of drinking and eating and general merriment. Only the Inquisitor and her closest friends stayed behind.

“No it’s not!” Varric insisted, spreading his hands on the table in front of him. “It’s small, it’s tiny, it’s petite, it’s… i-it’s _wee_.”

“I think it’s great,” Cassandra said, ignoring the daggers that the dwarf shot at her with his eyes. “The Inquisitor and the Commander.” Her secret romantic mind wandered over the possibilities, as if it was the plot of one of her hidden romance novels. But then her gaze snapped back to the Inquisitor, who had yet to cease her anxious pacing. “Did you have any idea?”

“No! None.” Her heart was racing, keeping up with her steps. “I mean, a few times he mentioned going to the tavern after he was finished practicing with the recruits, but there were always other soldiers there with us. Nothing ever came of it, so I just…” She trailed off, wondering how many other hints she may have missed.

Wondering if he knew that she, too…

“The extra guests were never of his choosing,” Dorian told her, his feet propped up on the edge of the table. “They just tagged along, and he was always too embarrassed to tell them to buzz off and leave you two alone.”

She stopped pacing, her head snapping in his direction. “You knew about this.” Her eyes moved to Varric, who had his forehead down against the tabletop as he contemplated the different ways the Commander would gut him for spilling his secret. “Both of you. What else did he say? I mean, does he want to…?”

“Given that he’s desperately in love with you, he probably wouldn’t mind grabbing dinner.” Shrugging, Dorian adjusted his seat. “Honestly, I don’t see how you didn’t catch on sooner.”

“I’ve got to talk to him.” She lowered her hand from her chest, looking down at the bracelet. She wasn’t sure why, but something wouldn’t let her put it on. Not until she could wrap her head around this whole situation.

“You can’t. He’s in Denerim,” Varric reminded her, lifting his head.

“What would you even say to him if you could reach him?” Leliana asked.

“I… I don’t know. Not yet.” She sank down into a chair, groaning with the motion. This was all too much at once.

“Well then, maybe it’s a good thing you won’t see him for a couple of weeks.” Varric placed a reassuring hand on her arm. “It’ll give you time to think about it, think about what you want to tell him.”

“If you’re just going to break his heart, it can wait anyway,” Dorian quipped.

“I just… I need some sleep.” She stood up, grabbing the grey jewelry box and laying the bracelet back on the black cushion. “I need to think this over.”

She let them watch her walk toward the door that led to her chambers, pausing halfway down the great hall as she stared at the box in her hand. “I don’t plan on breaking his heart,” she said, turning back to look at Dorian. “I know that much.”

That night, she slept with the bracelet on her bedside table where she could see it every time she awoke from her restless sleep.

 

* * *

 

Somehow, by the grace of Andraste, Ana had successfully managed to dodge questions about Cullen as best she could for the next several days. Leliana and Josephine had tried to pry her mind the day after her birthday party, but she mumbled some paltry excuse and left the room. She spent as much of her time training whatever she could think of, or helping with different menial tasks around Skyhold. Anything to avoid her friends’ probing. She still had questions in her own brain that she needed to answer, let alone theirs. Eventually everyone left her alone, though she could feel the burning gazes every time she entered a room, the eyes that swept immediately to her wrists to see if she yet wore the bracelet that Cullen had given her.

As she left her chambers one morning, yawning and fastening the final button on her tunic, she was startled to find Leliana, Cassandra, and Josephine waiting for her just outside her door.

“Good morning,” she said warily, knitting her eyebrows.

“We received notice from one of Leliana’s birds last night after you retired,” Josephine began, not even bothering with a polite greeting. She nodded in the spymaster’s direction, and on cue, as if they had rehearsed it – _hell, they probably did_ , she realized – Leliana held out a rolled up piece of parchment. “It’s from Cullen.”

The Commander’s familiar scrawl relayed his short message:

> _Leliana,_
> 
> _Our caravan is at the base of the mountain, where we will make camp for the night.  
>  We will continue our trek to Skyhold in the morning, and anticipate arrival in the late afternoon._
> 
> _Make sure Sera didn’t leave any “surprises” for me in my office, please._
> 
> _Cullen_

Her heart skipped a beat as her eyes roamed over his signature. She hadn’t even realized it had already been two weeks. Lowering the paper, she found three matching grins leering at her, like venomous snakes about to pounce on their prey. She suddenly realized how vulnerable she felt in the awkward silence that accompanied their gaze.

“Have you thought about it at all?” Cassandra was the one who spoke first.

Nodding, she rolled up the paper and handed it back to Leliana. “I’ve done nothing but think about it the last two weeks,” she admitted, leaning back against the doorframe. “I mean, it’s Cullen. You know? It’s _Cullen_.”

The three women all muttered some form of unsure agreement, sharing glances at one another.

“He’s the _Commander_ ,” she elaborated, more to herself than to them. “And I’m the Inquisitor. And there’s so much at stake. If things went wrong between us… not that I want things to go wrong, not at all. It’s not like I don’t… I mean, I’ve always _felt_ that… deep down…” She wasn’t sure how to continue, especially as the serpentine smiles returned on her friends’ faces. They knew what she meant. They _knew_.

“I’m thinking…” She sighed, closing her eyes as her brain finally stopped reeling for the first time in two weeks, settling on the decision that she somehow knew had always been the one she would make. Maker, her subconscious was exhausted. “I’m thinking it would be really great. To finally do something about it. I want to tell him the truth.”

Josephine squealed, pulling her into a tight hug while Cassandra and Leliana exchanged relieved glances behind her back.

“I always knew,” Leliana told her. “The way you would stare at him during war table meetings, you looked like a lovesick pup.”

“I did not!”

 

* * *

 

It had been a long two weeks. The journey to Denerim consisted of a broken wagon wheel and two of his companion soldiers falling ill. The inn they stayed at in the city was also housing a group of mercenaries, who insisted on drinking into the wee hours of the morning and loudly boasting of their kills, making Cullen resent the thin walls. They were able to negotiate a release of their general, who remained subdued and embarrassed the entire trip back to Skyhold, reluctant to say even one word to the Commander. Which Cullen was thankful for; he was in no mood to pretend he was happy with the man at the moment. He was far ahead of the rest of his caravan, not wanting to risk a conversation with the general just yet.

They were almost at Skyhold now, at least. He could see the fortress, his horse trotting happily through the snow toward home as if she too were excited for the familiar stables and a chance to properly rest. The old girl deserved it.

Cullen even considered taking a day off away from training and paperwork to just rest from the exhausting trip. He was eager to see his office, his bed, his friends. _The Inquisitor_.

His mind wandered back to the day he left. _Her birthday_. He hated having to leave at such short notice, especially when he had a gift for her. Cullen wanted to see her reaction as she opened the box and first saw the bracelet.

Her face when she had spotted it in the window at Val Royeaux was one he would never forget. The Commander had gone back later that night, while the Inquisitor was busy entertaining the Orlesian dignitaries they had met with that afternoon, and purchased the bracelet with no second thought. He had held onto it for months, keeping it hidden in his office desk, dying to give it to her but knowing it would be best to wait until her birthday.

And then he hadn’t even been there to watch her open it. He could have waited until he returned, he knew that. But he didn’t want her to think that he forgot her birthday. That notion made him almost more upset than missing her birthday did.

He swore under his breath at the whole ordeal, mentally adding yet another punishment for General Willis and his reckless, drunken behavior that pulled him away from the woman he loved.

 _Loved_. The word sent a chain of lightning through his stomach. He had never thought of it that way before, but the last two weeks had put a lot of things into perspective for him. He actually felt himself smiling, already more comfortable with the word than he had been just days before.

The front gate was already up, waiting for their return. As they crossed the stone bridge leading into the heart of Skyhold, Cullen rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The first thing he wanted to do was bathe and then fall into his bed. He could easily spend the next two days sleeping and worry about his troops later –.

He stopped.

The Inquisitor stood at the gates, leaning against the stone wall. She looked out over the mountains, a cold gust of wind blowing a wisp of hair away from her face. Turning, she locked eyes with the Commander and straightened, adjusting her tunic nervously. The gesture allowed the late afternoon sun to catch the adornment on her wrist: a silver bracelet, with one emerald and one sapphire glinting in the light.

_His gift._

Cullen slid off his horse, watching as she slowly approached him, a smile playing on her lips. The echo of his heart thundering in his ears drowned out the sound of the caravan far behind him. _She’s wearing it._

“Inquisitor,” Cullen greeted her, wincing at the exhaustion in his voice.

“Commander,” she responded, toying with the charms on her bracelet. “How was your trip? You look like you could use a nap.”

He chuckled, stepping just a fraction closer. _She waited for me._ “I’m glad to be back at Skyhold, that’s for sure.” He glanced down at her wrist. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to attend your party,” he added quietly. “Believe me, it wasn’t of my own volition.”

“Thank you for the bracelet.” Her voice was hushed, barely audible over the sound of the wind. And his hammering heart. “I can’t believe you did that.”

The Commander rubbed the back of his neck, glancing away as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “Well… your birthday… I wanted to…” He wasn’t sure what to say. He _knew_ what he wanted to say, of course. But when was the right time to say it?

The Inquisitor’s hand on his cheek startled him. He could hear the faint tinkle of the jewels on her bracelet as they knocked against one another, and he met her eyes again.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, closer, until her lips met his with a spark of lightning that shivered through his entire body. It was a split second before he slid his own hands around her waist, but that moment seemed to last a lifetime. He could almost feeling her heartbeat pounding through her chest, matching rhythm with his own as the kiss deepened into something that made the uncertain clouds evaporate from his mind.

He had planned out exactly what he wanted to say to her, in many different ways. He had thought of grand, sweeping proclamations of love along with more subtle, sweeter ones. He had debated with himself for days now whether to be instantaneous or careful and precise. In any situation, he had an idea of what he wanted to say, how he would respond should she accept or reject his admiration, how they would proceed from this moment forward.

And this wasn’t it.

It wasn’t the way he envisioned his reunion with the Inquisitor. It definitely wasn’t the greeting he was expecting upon his return to Skyhold, nor was this the way he had wanted her to receive her gift. It wasn’t the way he had wanted her to learn how he really felt.

But it was better than he ever imagined.


End file.
